Gabe was almost ready for the game. He’d strapped a couple of players’ knees for extra support, had his kit ready for sideline duty. But his head was somewhere else altogether—repeatedly banging on the brick wall of desire. He was out of his mind for that provocative, beautiful woman so out of bounds. He went for a walk, determined to claw back the necessary focus. Striding along the corridor, he almost missed the shadow lurking at the back of a remote stairwell. He did a double take, but his body recognized her immediately. ‘Roxie? What are you doing here?’
‘Nothing. Having a moment. Go away.’ The last of her breathless comments rose. Kind of like a question but more like hysteria.
‘No.’ He moved closer, answering her firmly. ‘You’re upset. What’s wrong?’ Adrenalin surged, his muscles flooded with aggression-filled strength. ‘Has one of the players done something?’
‘What? No!’
He believed her, but he also heard the raw emotion cracking her voice. He’d seen plenty of fear in his job and he saw it in her now. The way she was clutching her hands together, as if she was trying to stop herself fleeing. Beneath the silver glitter her eyes were wide with terror.
Concern gripped him. ‘Please tell me what’s wrong.’
He couldn’t breathe, holding himself back from drawing her hard against him so he could keep her safe from whatever, wherever, the danger was.
‘I’m fine. Really. Just having a breather. Lots of perfume in that room, you know?’
She was babbling. Why was she babbling?
‘I wanted a walk. You know. Clear the head.’ She looked at him with eyes so huge they were manic. ‘I’m nervous.’
Finally he could release the screaming tension in his lungs. He was so relieved, but he knew better than to laugh at her. ‘You’re a great dancer. You’ll be fine.’
She shook her head violently, her hair streaming out like a gold and bronze waterfall. ‘I’ve never done it before.’
He groaned. ‘Roxie, now is not the time to talk?—’
‘No.’ She actually managed a laugh. ‘Not that. I’ve never danced in front of an audience.’
‘What?’ She had to be kidding. Never danced before an audience?
She was still talking—faster and faster. ‘The stadium is full. And there’s the broadcast—all those viewers at home. I’ve not been to a dance classin years.I did ballet as a girl but when Grandma had the stroke, I gave up classes. I’m self-taught from dance vids and music clips. I’m not good enough to be alongside those professionally trained girls with all their experience. Who am I kidding? I can’t do it.’
‘Yes, you can.’ Gabe’s head was spinning with all that info, with a ton more questions.
But she just shook her head wildly, her body trembling, on the edge of making a run for it.
‘Just imagine you’re in the garden and there’s no one there.’ He stepped closer and kept his voice calm. ‘You dance incredibly in the garden.’ He’d watched her so often, he knew how damn well she moved. A million times better than any of those other girls—she totally had edge.
She looked even more panicked. ‘I can’t do it.’
Fear was irrational. And it was obvious his rational attempt to reassure wasn’t going to work. But he wasn’t aboutto tranquillize her, which left only one course of action—distraction.
And this was purely to offer comfort, right? There was comfort in a cuddle. That was all it would be. He could manage that and only that. For sure. Because there was no way he couldn’t touch her now. He didn’t have the strength not to. Didn’t have the desire not to. All that mattered was making her feel that little bit better.
Roxie was almost in tears. Trying so hard to blink them back because she was going to ruin her make-up if they spilt over. And she hadn’t cried in months—she couldn’t cry over something as silly as this. She held her hands together, pressing them tight just below her ribs. Wanting to stop shaking, unable to control her agitated movements. The more she tried to calm down, the more upset she got. And having him here wasn’t helping. She’d been getting a grip ’til now. Now she was all over the place. She wanted him to clear off. Only now he’d moved right in front of her.
‘Roxie.’ He gripped her shoulders hard.
Startled, she lifted her head to look into his face.
‘Roxie,’ he said again, the tone of his voice totally changing.
Her whole system froze for a moment and then slowly focused on him. But he didn’t say anything more, just the smallest of smiles appeared on his face. Fascinated, she watched, because that smile wasn’t one she’d seen from him before—that smile was full of naughtiness, full of promise. His eyes reflected it, darkening with only a slim gleam shining from the very center. She held her breath as his expression deepened wickedly. It looked as if the rake in him had been released.
One hand released her shoulder, moving close to cup her jaw, his broad palm pressed almost the length of her throat. He held her firmly. Her breathing slowed as she watched him move so slowly nearer. His touch seemed to drug her, replacingthe anxiety twitching through her veins with a sluggish warmth instead. She couldn’t move—not to encourage, or to run away. She could only wait. And want.
His thumb moved, stroking, the pressure of his fingers increasing on the vulnerable pulse point in her neck. She felt the release of his breath over her face. Her eyelids fluttered, blocking the visual overload from him being so close, so her body could focus on the touch, the scent.
His kiss was soft and not anywhere near enough to her lips. She felt the pull deep within—the ember that had been smoldering for so long was blown into a flame with just those too few touches.
